Mon Amour
by xEmmie-kinZx
Summary: Francis can never show up at someones house for a simple friendly visit, like a normal person. Then again, when has Francis ever been normal? FrUk


**Oh~**

**How I do love this pairing**

**Warnings: Homosexuality, PWP, somewhat involuntary sex, strong language and France.**

**Other than that, enjoy!**

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**Arthur's fingers ran almost melodicly over the paintings that hung along the walls of his summer estate. It was rare that he got to spend time here anymore, so he tended to forget how a lot of the transcendent building looked. His eyes flickered from painting to painting, as if this were his first time seeing them, and that they were more than just images of people he had never even met. Each of the pieces were completed to perfection, almost photographic. As he wondered down the vast hallway, his gaze was met with the one picture he could never forget. He allowed a small smile to grace his features as he reached up to softly caress the frame. He took in every tiny detail of the image that he had painted of him all those years ago. It was a rareity that Arthur would let anyone paint his portrait, but, after finding such a talented young man on the verge of fame, how could he not allow him to capture his image? Not to mention, since it was an original, it was now near priceless. A fact that Arthur took pride in.

The night was soon creeping upon him, and it was high time he retreated to bed. Although he wasnt tired in the slightest, he decided it better not to regret it in the morning. After all, tomorrow was an important day. Though it was a day he would rather forget was ever going to happen, and would gladly smear it from his memory in later years, it was inevitable and had to be done. Arthur felt a shiver shoot up his spine as images of what may come to pass flashed through his mind. After all, it _was _Francis who was visiting. Anything could happen with that frog eating bastard at his home. A sigh escaped his throat as his steps towards his room became less hasty. Tomorrow was going to be tedious and irksome. But, may as well suck it up and be a man, since there was no escape.

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The sun clearly had no intentions of letting the Brit have even the slightest lie-in. It's almost merciless rays were an evil matching that of Satan, Arthur thought. He dragged himself down the main stairway, stopping abruptly when he was met face to face with the same blonde jerk he would most rather not meet first thing on a morning, his eyes open painfully wide.

Before the man could muster up a single comprehensible statement, his visitor was already mere inches from his face, that default grin of his already in play. Francis brought his hand up to cup the shorter Nation's chin, eyes practically burning into Arthur's emerald once. Said man was still unable to mutter more then incoherent slurs. At first it was just from shock of seeing the blonde so early and embaressment from being seen in a state he desperately didnt want anyone to see him in. Now, it was from fear of the inevitable.

Whenever Francis arranged a meeting, it would always go about the same way. He would state his reason for being there, carry it out and then try to twist anything he could get his grubby hands on into an excuse to stay over. Which is were it got from bad to worse. Since simply sleeping over was not the Frenchman's intention. It never was. See, then he would make up some unjustifyable excuse to sleep in the same bed as the person he was staying with, and, well, that lead to other things that Arthur didn't bear thinking about.

Francis decided it was time he broke the ongoing awkward silence between them. He leaned in close to the Brit's ear and whispered, more seductively than even he had expected:

''How about we get you out of those gaudy pyjamas and into something more appropriate.''

Arthur felt his entire body shake at that point. A twinge of fear biting at the back of his mind, and a small voice telling him to move quickly. But he couldnt, he was frozen in place by the preditory hunger in the older man's eyes. Sure, it would not be the first time they had slept together - and would certainly not be the last either - but that didnt stop Arthur from still cowerly like a frightened virgin pinned to a wall by a mad rapist everytime Francis grabbed hold of him. Francis was being uncharacteristically silent, unlike how he would usually barge in and make everyone drop what they were doing in order for him to annouce his presence. And, then state his reason for being here. It was at this point that it hit him like a tonne of bricks. Francis didn't actually have anyproper reason to be here, he was here for one thing and one thing only. That very thing summed up by 3 simple letters: Sex.

Only then did the Briton show any sort of retaliation, not that it was any use of course. When Francis was like this, it was as if his strength esculated even higher than that when he was on the battlefield. An interesting and somewhat useful trait, but at the same time a pointless one. His hands flailed up to push the larger Nation away from him, but that effort proved futile as his wrists were effortlessly grabbed and pinned at his sides. Nice going Arthur, he mentally scolded himself, his lips forming a defiant frown in hopes of swaying the others actions. It didn' work, of course. The blonde man grinned at his victory, his pride clearly not damaged in anyway, as his lips moved down to brush against Arthur's. Who, in turn, yanked his head back as far as he could in order to not have to go through with the action. Clearly he didnt think it through though, as Francis simply took that motion as an invitation to kiss along his neck instead. As much as Arthur wanted to blame his drowsiness on his inability to fight back effectively, he knew deep down that even if he were fully awake he would still be failing. Miserably.

A faint groan escaped his lips when the Frenchman's teeth began to nibble on the junction connecting his neck to his shoulders. After all these years of knowing him, Francis had worked out every sensitive area of the Brit's body, and now finding them and using them to his own advantage was like seconds nature to him. He knew every act that would have the dirty blonde wielding to his every word in a matter of seconds. Every word and phrase that would have him moaning from just the sounds of his voice. Francis was overly pleased with that fact, sometimes so much so that he would brag to everyone and anyone about how he had had Arthur begging him and pleading for him to fuck him. Which often meant the Brit would lock himself up in his house for a few days till his embarresment had faded away, or till he had devised a plan that would end in Francis' body found washed up on the beach and him being the new ruler of France due to his 'tragic' loss.

All of his thoughts were soon shoved dramatically from his mind when the other Nation had pushed him back onto the stairs with a loud thud and was making short work of any aritcle of clothing they happened to have on. Well this was a first. Arthur had never done it on his staircase before, and to be honest, he had never intended to. But it looked like he didn't get a say in the matter, this being Francis of course, his word was law in the 'love' department. Though Arthur wasnt yet fully convinced that what the other man felt could honestly be refered to as love. The Frenchman licked his lips, eyes grazing over every inch of the porceline skin that he had unwrapped impulsively like a child unwrapping an extra special present on Christmas morning.

''Oh, Cherie, You get more and more beautiful every time I see you.''

''And you get more and more inpatient every time I see you.''

Finally, Arthur was able to speak a proper sentence. Shame his voice going to be wasted on giving Francis what he wanted. Complete submission. Francis didnt allow the statement to get to him, in fact, it was seen as a compliment to him. Which Arthur couldn't fathom for the life of him. Not that that mattered, as, even if he wanted to think of other things right now, he couldnt. All that was on his mind was the tantalizing way the blonde man's tongue licked every inch of his newly exposed chest. Making sure to give special treatment to his now perk nipples. No matter how badly Arthur wanted to pretend he didn't like the attention he was recieving, his body betrayed him. Thus, it was evident to Francis that what he was doing was working. Which only helped in making him more proud of himself. Also, he decided to turn things up a notch. Something the Brit was both thankful for but also discontent about. Yes, he wanted this, and that was obvious to anyone with eyes and half a brain, but that the same time he was dying to wriggle out of the mess he was in. Mostly because this was Francis. Things were never simple when it came to him.

''You seem so eager Mon Ami, does my mouth alone please you so much?''

''S-shut up you wanker! Just get on with it already! You know damn well how much I hate your fucking teasing!''

''You can't hate it that much, Cherie, look how your body is reacting to just my kisses.''

He gave a quick stroke to his manhood in ephasis of his words, making Arthur moan involuntarily, and to his discust, they just kept coming as Francis' motions sped up. It didn't take him long to have Arthur completely at his knees, begging for more despite how much this cut into his pride. And, as a proud man, this hurt Arthur more than any sword possibly could. But he wanted this so much, and there was no backing down now. He swollowed whatevery dignity he had left and near screamed at the man who was currently between his spread legs.

''For fucks sake, you arsehole, just fuck me already!''

And as much as Francis was taken aback by the sudden outburst, he quickly brushed the suprise aside in order to fulfill the desires of his friend. A little too eagerly in Arthur's oppinion, but he was certainly in no possition to judge right now. After what seemed like no time at all, Francis had the shorter blonde pinned down, his hips angled for entry and his lips seductively sucking on his ear. It was like an unspoken request for approval. Such approval was given of course, as what would the point be in turning back now? He was going to Hell anyway, Arthur thought, hips bucking a little in inpatience. It was then that he began to feel a little hypocritical, but he didn't care. All he cared about was what was to come, pun intended.

Francis smirked his usual smirk as he forced the Brit into a passionate and heated kiss, hips lunging forward to slam into the smaller body below him. Arthur's moans were trapped by his mouth, and Francis used this oppurtunity to plunge his tongue into the kiss, making the other man squirm even more. After a few moments of battling for dominance - a battle that naturally Francis won - the Frenchman pulled back and focused all his attention of slamming the other brutally into the stairs beneath them. Not the most comfortable place to fuck, both had to agree, but comfort was one of the last things on their mind right now. Plus, it was well known that Arthur was a bit of a masochist, so, this wasn't all that unpleasent for him anyway.

The deep, sharp thrusts were getting gradually more eratic as they went on. If he didn't know any better, Francis would swear that the stairs were shaking. Arthur's moans had long since esculated to screams, his soft panting now breathless groans. And he was getting closer and closer to the edge.

''Francis! Oh fuck... Mmmm!''

Arthur's hips bucked up more when a hand began to slowly, torturously pump him. It was all too quickly getting too much for the pair of them. Francis' hair had begun to plaster itself to his forehead from the sweat, and his voice had amplified drastically as he movements picked up even more speed, now practically pounding Arthur's smaller frame into the stairs. Which was going to hurt later, but right now, all his focus was on the intense and almost inhuman amounts of pleasure he was feeling. His hands rached out to grab hold of the bars on the railing, gripping on as if it was the key componant between life and death. Francis' spare hand had moved in order to grip at Arthur's hip in a painful grasp, that would most likely leave behind a bruise, so he could slam yet deeper into the smaller body he was currently violating sweetly.

''So... Oh God! So close... F-francis!''

With that said, Arthur then released all over both their chests, and after a few final thrusts, Francis did the same, spilling his seed deep inside him. Both men then collapsed into a pile oh heaving flesh and tangled limbs, neither now able to speak a single words due to sheere breathlesness. But, after a few minutes of blissful silence, Francis lifted his head to whisper in the others ear.

''So... about why I came here...''

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**How was that?**

**Review? Please?**

**I'll give you cookies ^^**


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